Home
by pretzzell
Summary: Olivia makes her way home. Set after 3.04 'Do Shapeshifters Dream of Electric Sheep'
1. Chapter 1

**Home  
Written by: **Addie Price  
**Summary:** Olivia makes her way home, but things are not the same. They never will be. Set after 3.04 'Do Shapeshifters Dream of Electric Sheep?'  
**Words: **1,336 words  
**Note: **My first multi-chaptered fanfic, Home is loosely based on my earlier one-shot, 'Broken' however you do not have to read that in order to understand this.  
As always, reviews are greatly appreciated.  
**Disclaimer:** FRINGE is the property of FOX Broadcasting Company and its associates. I am in no way affiliated with FOX nor do I own any of the characters depicted in this story.

* * *

_"Real is just a matter of perception."  
-Peter Bishop _

An explosion shook the campus, but no bomb had been planted. No fire broke out in the woods where the explosion occurred, no smoke filled the air. There was no evidence of the explosion seconds after it happened save for the ringing in the students' and faculties' ears.

Campus police found the young woman moments after the explosion, collapsed in the center of John F. Kennedy Park. She was unconscious and barely breathing, but alive. One officer knelt next to her, yelling at his colleagues to call an ambulance. He placed two fingers against her neck, checking her pulse. It was weak and shallow but there. The officer only hoped the ambulance would arrive soon.

"Hey, Mike." The second policeman pulled a badge off of the woman's belt. "She's FBI."

Mike took the badge from his partner, reading it. "Agent Olivia Dunham, Fringe Division." He looked up at the other officer. "You ever heard of it?"

His partner shook his head. "We definitely need to report this to them, though."

The sound of sirens filled the air, signaling the arrival of the ambulance. "Let's make sure she lives, first."

* * *

"Broyles."

Special Agent Philip Broyles could count on one hand the times he was genuinely surprised. When the woman on the other end of the line told him that Agent Olivia Dunham was found collapsed in John F. Kennedy Park on the Harvard Campus and was currently being rushed to the hospital in critical condition, he made a mental note to add another tally to his moments of surprise. Especially since said Olivia Dunham was standing in his office, eyes questioning as he carefully said "Thank you," and closed the phone, ending the call.

He turned his gaze to the woman before him, brown eyes steely. "What is it?" Olivia asked, giving him a small smile. "New case?"

Broyles didn't know what to suspect at first. Either the Olivia from Over There had found her way to their side or Olivia had never really returned home in the first place. The only way to find out would be to interrogate the two of them separately, to find out which was which. And he couldn't let on that he knew something was off.

"No, I have a meeting I forgot about. Excuse me."

"Of course."

As soon as Olivia left the room, Broyles took out his phone, dialing the one number he never thought he would've learned by heart. "Peter. It's Broyles. I need to speak with you and Walter. At the lab, immediately. We need to talk."

* * *

Peter and Walter were already at the lab when Broyles arrived. They were sitting in Olivia's office, Walter fixing an old record player while Peter drank his coffee, silently watching him.

"What's this about?" Peter's voice was careful, calculating. "Do we have a case? Because I talked to Olivia and she said that you didn't say anything about a case. And since it's six AM on a Saturday, I doubt this is just a friendly chat."

Broyles eyes turned steely. "You spoke with Dunham?"

Peter shrugged. "Of course. Should I not have?"

Sighing, Broyles sat down at Dunham's desk, placing his head in his hands. It occurred to Peter just then that Broyles was not as young as he seemed; that maybe the difficulty of the line in work they were in was finally catching up to him.

Broyles watched Walter work for a few minutes before speaking again. "Olivia Dunham is currently at the hospital after having collapsed in John F. Kennedy Park after an explosion. She is in critical condition. They don't know if she'll survive."

Peter straightened, taking a few steps towards Broyles. "That's ridiculous. I just talked to her."

Walter spoke, not even looking up from the record player. "Perhaps the Other Olivia has found her way to our side."

Peter looked at his father. "That would mean that they've successfully made a bridge. That they can cross at will."

"Not necessarily." Walter placed a side panel back on the record player, screwing it into place. "The Other Agent Dunham may have been treated with Cortexiphan just like ours was. Perhaps she's triggered her ability."

Peter shook his head. "Didn't William Bell on that side die at seventeen? How could he have conducted the Cortexiphan trials with Walternate when he was dead?"

Walter ignored him, placing a record on the player and starting it. "Aha! It works! Son, you used to love this song."

"I've never heard it before, Walter."

Walter nodded, dejected. "Right."

"May I say something?" In their banter, Walter and Peter had almost forgotten that Broyles was in the room. Broyles continued. "The possibility came to my mind that the Olivia Dunham we recently found is in fact our Olivia Dunham, not her alternate. Perhaps she was trapped on the other side and it was her doppelganger who returned with you."

Peter scoffed. "No, no way. There was no way that a switch was made. And I would know if she was a different person."

"But they're not really different people, are they?" Broyles voice was low, serious. As an FBI Agent, he had to consider every possibility. Even the far-fetched ones. "Olivia Dunham is Olivia Dunham, whether she's from this side or the other."

Shaking his head, Peter put out a hand to stop the conversation before it went any further. "No. You didn't meet the other Olivia. You didn't see how different they were. I would know!" His voice had risen to a shout, though whether he was angry at Broyles or himself, it was hard to tell.

A silence settled over the trio as Peter stood, panting, staring at the other two men. Walter was the first to speak up, raising a hand towards Peter. "Son, think about it rationally for a second. Has Olivia seemed at all . . . off to you since our return from the Other Side? Have you noticed anything different about her?"

Peter shook his head and threw up his hands, storming from the office. "I can't believe we're even talking about this."

"Son, wait!" Walter went to follow his son but Broyles put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"Let it go, Doctor. Peter will come around eventually. For now, I need you to do something else."

"Oh?" Walter turned to look at the agent, his excitement at the prospect of an experiment clear on his face. "What is it?"

* * *

Peter walked towards Gene's stall, fuming. He would have known if Olivia had remained on the Other Side. He would have known the differences between the two. He would have known.

As he patted Gene's head, trying to calm his anger, Peter thought about his time with Olivia ever since they returned from the Other Side. He remembered small differences he had seen in her, the little things he had noticed about her. Her sudden interest in pop culture and music. Her shock and surprise at seeing Ella and Rachel when they returned, as if she were seeing ghosts. The slight confusion she had when they were at her apartment having dinner the same night they'd returned, as if she were a little bit lost in her own home. He had been making excuses for her, had been attributing the differences to the large changes in her life: in her relationship with him, the after-effects of seeing a different version of her own life, the very real possibility that their world may soon come to an end.

Walter and Broyles emerged from Olivia's office, the excitement on his father's face unmistakable. Peter pushed the thoughts of Olivia's odd mannerisms out of his mind and made his way towards them, knowing he would have to keep Walter under control if experimental drugs were involved.


	2. Chapter 2

**Home****  
****Written by:**Addie Price  
**Summary:** Olivia makes her way home. Set after 3.04 'Do Shapeshifters Dream of Electric Sheep?'  
**Words:**1,745 words  
**Note:**Don't expect updates like this too often. I was on a roll after finishing the first chapter and school was rather boring today. I'm betting that updates will often be a few days apart, not one day after another. I have some idea of where I want this to go but I don't know how long it's going to take me to get there.  
Also, I've become addicted to reviews.  
**Disclaimer:** FRINGE is the property of FOX Broadcasting Company and its associates. I am in no way affiliated with FOX nor do I own any of the characters depicted in this story.

* * *

_"When you open your mind to the impossible,  
sometimes you find the truth."  
Walter Bishop_

It was inevitable that she would end up in this predicament, in her office at the lab, Broyles sitting across from her and watching her every move closely. She was never under any illusion that she would stay on this side indefinitely but she didn't expect to fool the people Over Here for as long as she had. The shock she felt was not from the fact that they had found out; it was from the fact they hadn't found out sooner.

And yet, she refused to confess, to tell Broyles that she was not the Olivia he was looking for. She knew that eventually they would discover she wasn't who she said she was (Walter was far too smart _not_ to devise some sort of experiment) but she refused to give in so easily. She knew that she was alone on this side, that she had no way of returning to her home. Newton was dead and she didn't know the identities of the shapeshifters who could help her.

For the first time in her life, Olivia Dunham felt utterly alone.

Peter would give her piteous smiles when passed by the open office door, but she knew the looks were not meant for her. Broyles sat in the room with her but said nothing, instead keeping a silence that was so completely uncomfortable that she would've preferred to have the silence of an empty room. Often, Astrid would poke her head in the room to offer them some coffee or a treat Walter had asked for, but both agents would politely decline and then continue to keep up the silence. Every once in a while, Olivia would plead with Broyles, tell him that the entire scenario was ridiculous, that she was the Olivia Dunham he knew, not some alternate, but Broyles kept his silence. Eventually, Olivia retreated into a similar silence, keeping her tongue whenever questions and phrases of defense sprang to it.

Olivia knew that her alternate had been found. They hadn't told her outright, but the implication of it lay so heavily in the air it was impossible not to figure it out. The only reason any thought of her being an infiltrator had even passed through Broyles's mind was because he had found the second Olivia Dunham. Otherwise, Olivia would not be in the lab, waiting for Walter to finish an experiment that would determine who she was. The only reasoning for the experiments was clear: Olivia Dunham had come home.

Walter walked into the room, clapping his hands together in excitement. "It's finished!" Broyles shifted from his leaning position to a standing one, eager to find the truth. Walter waved at Olivia. "Come on, come on. Let's go." As Walter led her out of the office, he rubbed his hands together. "I do love a good experiment!"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Olivia lowered herself into a reclined doctor's chair, sensors on her head and over her heart. "We'll be measuring your brainwaves," Walter explained, putting an IV drip in her arm. "In order to get an accurate measurement, I'll have to give you a small anesthetic. You'll feel a small pinch."

After the IV was administered, Walter took a syringe, injecting it into the drip. "This will calm you and render you immobile." He took a second syringe. "And this, this will bring you to the same conditions you were under before when we measured brain patterns, while you shared consciousness with Agent Scott."

The drugs taking effect, Olivia closed her eyes, feeling herself slip into a barely conscious state. She had let herself become vulnerable; as soon as they determined that she was not their Olivia, she would easily be captured. She could barely think clearly, much less move to escape once they discovered the truth. She was trapped.

"Hey, 'Livia." She opened her eyes to look at Peter, standing at her side. He put a hand to her head, brushing her hair back lightly. "Everything's going to be fine."

Olivia smiled in response, unable to say anything. _'No,' _she thought, shutting her eyes to block him out as he went to help Walter begin the experiment. _'It won't.'_

Walter and Peter were standing near her, by the computer that Astrid was operating. The junior agent plugged a few numbers into the machine to calibrate it, before turning to look at Walter. "It's ready."

"Excellent." Walter went over to the machine, placing a hand on a small dial. "I'm sorry, Olivia," he said, his voice truly apologetic. "We have to put your mind under the same stress as before. I'm afraid this is the quickest way. This may hurt a bit." He turned the dial a small bit before pressing it in.

An electric shock ripped through Olivia, causing her back to arch. If she weren't strapped in, she would've fallen off the chair. As soon as the shock started, however, it ended, leaving her breathless and weak.

Astrid looked at the brainwave output, comparing it to the previously recorded waves that were also on the screen. She glanced back at Walter. "Nothing."

Walter sighed, turning the dial more. "Sorry." The word fell from his mouth with all the sincerity the scientist could muster. He pressed the dial in once more.

The second jolt was not as bad as the first, as Olivia had been expecting it this time. However, her back still arched off the table, her teeth still ground together and a small whimper still escaped her. Despite her resolve to maintain stoically silent as they determined her brainwave patterns, she found herself panting once the shock ran through her body and left it once more.

"We have something." At first, Astrid's voice was a blessing as there would be no more trials. But then it was a curse, as it indicated that they would find out who she truly was.

Walter stared at the screen hopefully as the brain waves registered themselves, crossing the screen like a pulse on a heart monitor. Astrid punched a few buttons, laying the two patterns over each other to see if they matched up. Peter held his breath while beside him, Broyles stiffened.

They didn't.

Walter's eyes turned steely. He straightened, facing Olivia with such a piteous gaze that it nearly broke her heart. Broyles remained the same, his posture rigid as he stepped from the lab with a curt "Excuse me." Astrid's breathing hitched, her eyes locking on Olivia's, shock and hurt clear enough. But it was Peter's reaction that surprised her the most. She had been expecting him to storm over to her, to beat her senseless and demand to know why she had done it and what had happened with his Olivia. But he just kept his silence, staring at her, eyes completely devoid of emotion, as if he had gone through too much in the past few hours to even try and feel anymore.

But what Peter was going through was so much more than that. Anger, shock and hurt towards the Olivia laying before him. Pity, sorrow and fear towards the one laying comatose in a hospital bed, so many miles away. Horror, hatred and such and all-encompassing _rage_ towards himself that he hadn't discovered the truth sooner, that he had let an imposter trick him for so long. That he hadn't even found the truth for himself, that a machine had to determine what his mind should have known all along. That he had done so many things, spoken so many words, performed so many actions that should have been directed towards the Olivia he was meant to be with, not towards a woman he had only met once before. He felt sick.

He didn't know which emotion to display as he stared at Olivia's doppelganger, knowing that none would suffice. So he let his features take on their own response to the knowledge, his face falling into a blank canvas, void of any sentiment.

A small hand touched his elbow, radiating warmth and comfort. Astrid. Peter shook his head, his mouth opening and closing, at a complete loss for words. He raised a hand, simply indicating 'no' before Astrid let go and he walked away, into Olivia's office, shutting the door softly behind him.

Giving a yell of pure anger, Peter swiped his hand across Olivia's desk, sending papers and files flying. He kicked a chair hard enough to send it soaring across the room before it slammed into a wall. He tore at his head, only wanting to beat himself up but incapable of doing so beyond punching walls and beating up furniture. All too soon, his childish tantrum was through and he found himself sitting on the floor in a corner of the room.

And then he did something he hadn't done since his mother committed suicide. Peter Bishop cried.

Huge, racking sobs that shook his entire frame. Silent, stifling tears that slipped down his cheeks. Gasping breaths that threatened to develop into hyperventilation. A silence as he contemplated all three, before the process started all over again. It took him an hour to calm down enough to exit the office with the little pride he had left. He caught sight of the agents that were wheeling the other Olivia away on a gurney, unconscious due to Walter's drugs. Broyles watched the proceedings with a careful eye, ensuring that the alternate would not cause any more damage on his side.

Peter walked over to the agent, gaze down, not meeting his eye. He didn't have to say a word for Broyles to answer his question.

"She'll be taken to a secure facility, where she will be guarded around the clock and kept in a drugged state until we deem it appropriate for questioning. Don't worry. She won't cause anymore harm."

Peter scoffed. "There's no more harm to be done."

Broyles took his eyes off the doppelganger, turning to Peter. "Don't beat yourself up over this, Bishop. None of us knew. She fooled us all."

"That's no excuse. I should've known. I did know. I was just to blind to believe it. I wanted so badly for it to be her that I made up excuses, convinced myself of lies. But I knew the truth. I was just to blind to see it."

Broyles clapped a hand on his shoulder. "We all were, Peter. We all were."


	3. Chapter 3

**Home****  
****Written by:**Addie Price  
**Summary:** Olivia makes her way home. Set after 3.04 'Do Shapeshifters Dream of Electric Sheep'  
**Words:**1,376  
**Note:**Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I had hoped to get it up sooner, but I was unable to because I was so busy. Also, this chapter seemed to move slowly for me. I apologize for that.  
I hate to say it, but please review! You guys have no idea how much they mean to an author!  
**Disclaimer:** FRINGE is the property of FOX Broadcasting Company and its associates. I am in no way affiliated with FOX nor do I own any of the characters depicted in this story.

* * *

_"When you open doors, there is a price to pay."  
-Walter Bishop_

By the time Peter arrived at the hospital, Olivia had been moved from the Intensive Care Unit and was placed in a regular, long-term stay room. She had been handcuffed to her bed with two agents placed at the door to her room and another inside to keep an eye on her. They didn't know. They hadn't gotten word yet that this was the real Agent Dunham, not the imposter who had been impersonating her for the past few months.

As Peter went to enter the room, one of the agents put a hand up to stop him. "You can't go in there, sir."

Peter felt a nearly overwhelming urge to punch the man in the jaw but suppressed it. His hand curled into a fist at his side and his jaw tightened as he ground his teeth together. Suddenly, a warm hand was on his shoulder and another was holding a badge in the agent's face. "He's with me."

Junior Agent Astrid Farnsworth pulled Peter back slightly, shifting herself in front of him, between him and the agent. The agent looked between the badge and Astrid for a moment before nodding at the latter. "Go ahead, Agent Farnsworth." Astrid went in the room, curtly dismissing the agent who had been commissioned to watch Olivia. Peter skirted around the man in the doorway, looking past him into the room. His heart clenched at what he saw.

Olivia lay unconscious on the hospital bed, russet hair framing her face on the pillow. She was paler than normal, the bruises on her face and arms clear. Scars from needles and injections dotted her arms, around the prominent veins. There was a long scratch on her forehead, cutting through her eyebrow. Two more cuts were on her cheek, underneath her right eye, like tears. More cuts and scrapes dotted her face and arms and from where the hospital gown had slipped from her shoulder, Peter could see a dark, purple bruise blossoming over her shoulder and down her back.

As if from a distance, Peter felt Astrid's hand on his shoulder, an apologetic touch. He heard her leave the room and tell the agents outside not to bother him. But it was all irrelevant, dispatched from Olivia and him. Nothing mattered at that moment besides the woman laying unconscious in the hospital bed before him.

He slowly moved to her bedside, reaching out a hand and placing it on her arm. Her skin was cold to the touch, pale against his hand. From somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he vaguely wondered how the other Olivia would look next to her but pushed the thought from his mind, unwilling to let her alternate intrude on this moment.

"Hey, 'Livia." He didn't know exactly what to say, what to do. He hadn't prepared himself for this, wasn't prepared to actually see someone he cared about in such a vulnerable state. Especially since he knew that there was another Olivia Dunham in this universe, locked up in the Federal Building just a little ways away.

Peter gave a small smile, wrapping his hand around hers. "I'm sorry, 'Livia. I'm so sorry. I should've known. I should've known that she wasn't you." He dropped his head onto their hands, feeling the tears escape him again. "I'm so, so sorry."

He felt her hand clench against his, felt the small movement with all his being. Raising his head, he looked at her, eyes hopeful. "Olivia?" Her eyes remained closed, but he noticed that her heartbeat had gotten stronger. "Olivia, can you hear me?" He knew she was unconscious, knew the doctors weren't hopeful about her waking up any time soon. But Peter would take any reaction from her at this moment, whether or not she was truly conscious.

Nothing more happened. Her hand loosed, becoming lifeless once more. Her heartbeat weakened again, beating no less strongly than before. Peter sighed, tightening his grip once more.

He began to speak, the words pouring from his mouth, tripping over each other in a rush to be heard. He apologized for not knowing she wasn't with him, for telling the Other Olivia things he should've told her. For not realizing that she had been left on the other side, for kissing and dancing with and _loving_ her alternate. He told her about Walter and Astrid and Gene. He talked about Ella and Rachel, about the cases the Fringe Division had seen without her. He told her about news events that had occurred in her absence, about the different things that had transpired on their side while she was trapped on the Other. He talked about the weather and other trivial things, things that didn't matter. He talked until he couldn't talk anymore, having exhausted every single topic that came to mind.

He sat with her in silence, eventually falling asleep in his chair, his head resting on Olivia's bed next to their hands, his still wrapped around hers.

Peter awoke to the sound of his name, lifting his head from the bed. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Peter looked at the bed's occupant, confusion and hope thick in his throaty voice. "Olivia?" She didn't answer.

A voice from behind him spoke, answering his unasked question. "She's still unconscious." Peter turned, looking at Walter as the older man wrung his hands at the end of Olivia's bed. His expression was solemn, his eyes brimming with sorrow and despair as he stared at Olivia. He moved to stand behind Peter, placing a hand on his shoulder. Peter held it there, turning back to face Olivia. As he looked at her, he felt the tears slipping down his face.

* * *

Peter spent the next five days at the hospital, refusing to leave Olivia's side for anything less than using the restroom. He had Astrid bring him a bag and to his utter surprise, she stayed nearly as long as he did. She had volunteered to be the agent to keep an eye on Olivia, despite the fact that Broyles was certain she was the Olivia from Our Side. And yet, he had ordered a 24-hour detail on her and Astrid was more than willing to comply. Initially, Walter had wanted to move Olivia to the lab to run tests on her and discover just how she'd fared on the Other Side and why it had taken her so long to return, but Peter convinced him against it, telling him it would be best to wait until Olivia was awake.

Rachel and Ella stopped by a few times, having been told that she was in another car accident. It took a while to convince them that Olivia had purposely dyed her hair red and that it wasn't some lab accident, though Rachel was dead-set on dying it back to blonde as soon as her sister woke.

Despite the fact that Olivia was unconscious for five days, it was less concerning than her first accident. Before she had been officially pronounced dead, as there was no brain-activity and she came very close to death. This time, however, her mind was still functioning and all her vitals were strong, despite the internal-bleeding she'd had when she was first admitted to the hospital.

On her fifth night in the hospital, Peter returned from the waiting room where he had just finished saying good-night to Walter before Astrid took him home (it was the only time she left Olivia's room). Rachel and Ella had left hours earlier, Ella having school in the morning and Rachel not wanting to keep her out too late.

Looking to the bed, Peter expected to see Olivia laying there, unconscious, as she had been for the past few days. But he was surprised to see her sitting up, panic evident on her face. As he stepped into the room, his heart swelling, he went to move to her bedside, to calm her. But when she turned her face to meet his full-on, he froze, terrified by what he saw.

She didn't recognize him. It was clear by the confusion on her face, by the way she spoke, the harshness in her voice, the way she asked, "Peter Bishop? What is the Secretary's son doing here?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Home****  
****Written by: **Addie Price  
**Summary:** Olivia makes her way home. Set after 3.04 'Do Shapeshifters Dream of Electric Sheep'  
**Words:** 2,380  
**Note: **Please keep in mind that this was written before 3.05 'Amber 31422.' Any similarities to the events depicted in that episode are either pure coincidental or because I saw them in a preview and couldn't help but incorporate them.  
As always, please review!  
**Disclaimer:** FRINGE is the property of FOX Broadcasting Company and its associates. I am in no way affiliated with FOX nor do I own any of the characters depicted in this story.

* * *

"_According to the old legend, if you run into yourself, your double, it means you're supposed to die."  
-Mike Flickner_

The doctor had told her to change out of her clothes and into the clothes they'd provided for her, a plain white cotton dress. She felt odd complying, as if she had done a similar experiment before, but pushed off the feeling with her shirt.

As soon as she was finished preparing herself to the doctor's specifications, she shut the locker door, wrapping the provided robe around herself. She walked from the white-tiled locker room, following a doctor through the antiseptic-washed hallways to the room where the procedure would take place.

Stepping into the room, she felt a wave of dread overcome her. All of a sudden, she was convinced that the man standing before her was wrong, that the suit he was in was wrong, that everything about his smile and his eyes and his _being_ was so completely and utterly _wrong_ that she almost recoiled at the sight of him. She felt as if she were about to be physically sick.

Olivia forced the feeling out of her, convincing herself that, even though she'd only seen the Secretary a few times, there was nothing wrong or different about him. He was as clean and proper as ever, extending a hand to her as she came into the room.

"Ah, Agent Dunham." She took his offered hand, letting him lead her to the tank in one corner of the room. A scientist stood to one side of a table where various sensors lay out, wringing his hands together in nervousness and excitement. It took a moment, but Olivia remembered his name was Brandon. She didn't know how she remembered; as she thought further to when they had first met, she realized she didn't know, couldn't recall ever being introduced to the young scientist.

The Secretary led her to the scientist, releasing her hand so she could shake his. He waved between them. "Brandon, this is Agent Olivia Dunham."

Brandon leaned forward enthusiastically, shaking her hand with a refreshing excitement. "Yes, we've-" A sharp glance from the Secretary cut him off and Brandon released her hand, clearing his throat in embarrassment. He clasped his hands together, rubbing them. "Shall we get started?"

The Secretary nodded, keeping his narrowed eyes on Brandon as he backed up, allowing the scientist to begin placing the sensors on Olivia.

As he attached the sensors to Olivia's head and chest, Brandon explained what they would be doing. Essentially, they were trying to find the same things that her alternate had in the other universe – the way by which she could travel between realities. In order for people from their universe to safely travel to the other, they needed to know the secrets of her doppelganger. They needed to be able to safely cross between realities without repercussions.

"We've found that the best way to study the mind," Brandon said, placing an electro-magnetic probe at the base of her skull, "is to immerse the subject in a sensory-deprivation tank." He clapped his hands together. "Okay, that's all of it. If you could, ah, remove the robe."

Olivia complied, letting the robe slip from her shoulders. She accepted Brandon's offered hand as she stepped into the tank. It was a glass enclosure, filled with salt water. The set up was simple enough – nothing like the advanced technologies Olivia was used to.

Lying back in the water, Olivia let the water support her. She felt her body relax, felt her eyes shut. The water and tank was familiar to her, an environment that she had been in many times before. However, as much as she strained to remember, she couldn't pinpoint the memories of ever having been in such a tank before.

"Just relax, Agent Dunham." Opening her eyes, she saw Brandon looking down at her through the glass doors of the tank, smiling weakly. "And listen carefully to my voice. I'll be guiding you through your mind and the only thing connecting you to this world will be my voice. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Brandon nodded before retreating from her line of sight. Olivia closed her eyes, letting the chamber take away her senses. She was weightless in the water. The tank was silent, save for the few times Brandon's voice filled it. Despite the fact that the container was made of glass, Brandon and the Secretary had retreated to a different room, leaving the one with the tank in a pitch darkness.

"Are you ready, Agent Dunham?" Brandon's voice crackled in the tank.

Olivia felt herself nodding and heard, as if from a distance, herself faintly say, "yes."

"Alright," Brandon said his voice low and calculating. "Open your eyes and tell me what you see."

She did, revealing that she was in an old lab. It was dark, as if in a basement. A cow stood in one corner, chewing hay. A metal rusted tank similar to the one she lay in was in another. She heard Brandon speaking once more but couldn't quite comprehend his words, her mind entirely focused on the man who was suddenly standing before her, a hand raised in greeting. A man who was all too familiar.

"Hello, 'Livia."

Pain exploded behind her eyelids, white hot and burning. It encompassed her, emanating from both her mind and her surroundings. She let out a gasp, bringing her hands to her head, trying to hold the pain both in and out at the same time. Every thought she might have had was ripped from her mind, to be replaced by the searing pain.

Teeth clenched tightly against the pain, Olivia fell to her knees, grasping at the last sense of reality she had. She looked at the man, her only connection to her surroundings, her eyes narrowed tightly, barely able to see around the searing pain.

"Peter?" Her voice was small, tight. It reverberated throughout her mind, throughout the room. The man smiled at her, eyes kind.

"It's nice to see you again."

"I don't . . . know you!" she gasped. Shutting her eyes again, she willed herself back into the quiet, painless void of the tank. "You're . . . you're not real!"

A hand touched her shoulder. "You do, Olivia. You just don't remember." She felt him kneeling next to her, felt his breath on her ear as he whispered, "You belong with me."

Suddenly he was gone and her mind exploded, a flood of memories filling her. She was nine, holding a gun, pointed at her stepfather as he gaped at her, bleeding from a wound in his stomach, daring her to finish the job. She was fourteen, at her mother's funeral, watching the casket be lowered into an open grave. Her sister was in the hospital, giving birth to a baby girl and naming her Ella before she died from complications. She was on a date with a man named Frank. She was being recruited for Fringe Division and flying to Iraq to meet a man called Peter Bishop whose father could save her partner John Scott's life. She was being partnered with Lincoln Lee and Charlie Francis after John died. She was watching the first use of amber quarantine at Harvard as Boston was evacuated. She was in a hospital bed, Peter's hand to her head, telling her everything was going to be okay. Lincoln was kissing her in the rain, even though she was with Frank. She was with Charlie in an alley, bleeding silver from the bullet wound in his forehead, her gun still smoking from the shot. She was in a cell in the Department of Defense Headquarters on Liberty Island. She was being tested on, wincing as they injected drugs into her arm. She was telling a taxi driver that she wasn't insane, that she wasn't who they said she was, that she was from a different universe. She was being told that she had had a psychotic break, that she was claiming that she wasn't from here. She was joking with Lincoln and Charlie, the same Charlie she had seen bleeding from a wound that was impossible to recover from.

The memories stopped. She opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings. She was back in the lab, but it was different. The equipment was all covered with white sheets, hiding it from view. And standing before her, smirking, was a red-haired version of herself. Her alternate, her doppelganger, her double. She weakly stood, remembering what the Secretary had once told her. _"There are others, doubles. They may look like us but don't be fooled. They are monsters in our skin." _She remembered the alternate universe, the fight she'd had with her other self.

"Who are you?" she asked, not unaware to the fact that Peter was now gone, that they were alone in the lab. "Where am I?"

The Other Olivia waved an arm towards their surroundings. "Walter's lab, on my Side. This is how your mind sees things, its way of working out the problem you have right now. And as for your first question, isn't it obvious? _I'm you._"

"What do you mean 'the problem?'?"

Olivia laughed, the sound high, unnatural. "You have two consciousnesses fighting for control of one mind. I'd say that's a problem, wouldn't you?"

She felt her hands shaking, her breathing weak and shallow as she leaned on a covered counter. "Which one are you?"

"I'm from the Other Side. Don't you remember? They injected you with my memories, put you in my life." She stalked forward, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Couldn't you tell, Olivia? You're not from here. This isn't your home."

The realization of what was going on hit her, almost knocking her to her knees. If the lab was representative of her mind, then it meant that her Alternate was in control. The lab appeared as it would on the Other Side, not as it did at home. These were not her memories. Her double had taken control of her mind. She needed to fight to gain it back.

She straightened, feeling a new, invigorating strength fill her, renewing her. The lab flickered, Gene the cow appearing in one corner, the sheets disappearing from the equipment, revealing what was underneath, but only for a moment. Her alternate glanced around, startled, before grinning when it went back to what was normal for her. "You're not strong enough," she said. "You can't control your own mind. How do you ever expect to get home if you don't even know yourself?"

Olivia shut her eyes, bringing her hands to her head. "Shut . . . up." She looked at her, eyes dark. "I know who I am."

"Do you? Do you actually know who you are?"

"Yes. Of course I do."

A third voice joined them, distinctly male. "That's it, Olivia." She spun on her heel, finding the source. Peter. "You have to remember. You have to go home."

Olivia's eyes softened, filled with sorrow. "I . . . I can't. I don't know . . . I don't know how."

Peter stepped forward, touching her forearm gently. "You do, 'Livia. You just don't remember."

She looked up at him, fearful. "Peter, what if . . . what if I don't want to remember?"

"You have to, Olivia. You have to remember."

Suddenly, he was gone and she was alone once more. Her alternate had disappeared as well, though the room remained the same – the equipment covered and the air musty. Leaning against a wall, she shut her eyes and slumped to the floor, crying softly. She was alone and terrified.

And as she sat there and cried, something triggered inside of her. She felt it flood her mind, filling her, enveloping her entire body. It was an energy, a strength. It coalesced inside her, gathering itself at the core of her very being.

All of a sudden, the energy exploded from her core, filling the room. A moment later, she was back in the tank, the water surrounding her once more. The energy sucked into her once more before rocketing outwards, shattering the glass tank. Water spilled through the room and glass shot both inwards and out, leaving long cuts and scrapes on her. She felt the water carrying her from the tank and then it was gone, replaced by the hard ground. And then, Olivia Dunham fainted in the middle of John F. Kennedy Park at Harvard in Boston.

* * *

The Secretary burst into the room, closely followed by Brandon. The tank had exploded, water pooling around shattered glass on the hard tile floor. Besides the remains of the tank, the room was empty. Agent Dunham was gone.

As Walter Bishop turned to face him, Brandon expected to see the wrath of God in the man's eyes. But what terrified him even more was the calm evenness in the Secretary's voice as he asked, "where is Agent Dunham?"

Brandon swallowed, trying to figure out the best way to explain what he knew had happened to Olivia Dunham. Quick and easy would be best, he decided. Like a band-aid.

"Sir, I think the only explanation is that we triggered her ability. She's gone back to the Other Side."

The Secretary took a breath, deep and slow. "Did we at least get the information we needed?"

Brandon checked the interface then nodded. "Yes, sir. She had some sort of chemical in her brain, one that had been there for a long time. I'll begin analyzing it immediately."

Walter nodded. "Thank you, Brandon." He clapped a hand on the scientist's shoulder. "And, Brandon, well done."

* * *

She woke up in a hospital room, Peter Bishop standing at the foot of her bed. Even though she had only met him once before, he was easily recognizable. It was in the soft glow of the hospital room that she realized how much he looked like the Secretary. She was confused as she looked at him. If she remembered correctly, Peter had gone home with her alternate, returning to his universe. At least, that's what Lincoln and Charlie had told her.

"Peter Bishop?" She hadn't meant for her voice to be so harsh, so plainly confused. "What is the Secretary's son doing here?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Home  
Written by: **Addie Price  
**Summary:** Olivia makes her way home. Set after 3.04 'Do Shapeshifters Dream of Electric Sheep'  
**Words:** 1,946  
**Note: **I am terribly sorry for the long delay between chapters! I don't know why, but this chapter was extremely difficult for me to write. This is actually the fifth version that I wrote of it, and I'm still not very happy with it. However, I decided that I would just publish it to get it out of the way. Again, I'm very sorry for the delay. Hopefully the next chapter will be easier to write!  
**Disclaimer:** FRINGE is the property of FOX Broadcasting Company and its associates. I am in no way affiliated with FOX nor do I own any of the characters depicted in this story.

"_You can't forget who you are, Olivia. You can't forget where you're from."  
- Peter Bishop_

For hours, they deliberated and discussed, voicing ideas and theories before tossing them out as soon as they came to light. Eventually, they settled on a conclusion, deciding that it was the best one they'd come to so far.

Broyles had figured out that the switch had been made right before Peter and Walter returned, bringing Olivia's alternate with them. It was Walter who determined why they would need their Olivia, why the Other Side was so intent on keeping her over there. But it was Peter who came up with the interrogation that would be the most effective in determining exactly what had happened to Olivia on the Other Side and why she was behaving as if she was from Over There.

Astrid was startled to see the three men arrive at the hospital so late at night. She had been asleep in Olivia's room when Peter woke her with a gentle shake. Alarmed at first, she looked over to Olivia's bed, only to see that the woman was still sleeping there, having been put into a drug-induced stupor. She turned back to Peter, eyes questioning. "What's going on?"

"We know what happened," Peter said, looking over at Olivia. "They made a switch and kept her Over There. Walter thinks that they injected her with her alternate's memories so they could figure out how she can safely travel between worlds. He thinks that, while they were experimenting on her, they triggered her ability somehow. That's how she came home. We're here to see if he's right."

Astrid nodded, stifling a yawn. She had spent the last week at the hospital, watching over Olivia. Peter put a hand on her arm. "You should go home, get some sleep."

Astrid complied, standing to gather her bag, muttering a sleepy, "thanks, Peter."

Peter moved to Olivia's bedside after Astrid left, gently brushing the russet bangs from her eyes. He knew that if she woke up, she wouldn't know who he was, would recognize him only as the Secretary's son.

Walter watched the entire scene, his heart breaking as he recognized the pain on his son's face. The pain of losing someone indefinitely.

Broyles came into the room with a nurse and a second woman, the FBI Psychologist who would ask Olivia the questions Peter had come up with.

"Are we ready, Peter?"

Peter nodded, leaning forward to give Olivia a small kiss on her forehead. He backed up, allowing the nurse to inject Olivia's IV with a drug that would bring her out of her sleep. Broyles left the room. Walter clasped his son's shoulder, gazing down at the woman who had brought them together, who had developed the operation that tore Walter and Peter apart only to bring them together once more. The men left the room, following Broyles. They would watch the interrogation from a different room on a closed-circuit feed.

As Dr. Reed sat down in a chair beside Agent Olivia Dunham's bed, she wondered what exactly had happened to bring the woman to such a state. Agent Broyles had told her that Agent Dunham had a bad case of amnesia, that she thought she was someone else. Dr. Reed thought perhaps the woman had a psychotic break and the Agency just wanted to know exactly how functional their Agent was. But as she examined the cuts and scrapes and bruises that plagued the woman, Dr. Reed knew there was more to the story. However, she had been working with the Agency just long enough to know better than to ask.

Agent Dunham woke slowly, her eyes blinking away sleep. The nurse quickly checked her vitals before nodding at Olivia, smiling softly. "You're doing well, Agent Dunham." She nodded at Dr. Reed. "There's someone here to see you."

Dr. Reed smiled at Olivia as the woman turned her head to look at her, eyes confused. "Hello, Olivia," Dr. Reed said, extending a hand to her patient as the nurse moved the bed mechanically, bringing Olivia to a sitting position. "I'm Dr. Allison Reed. I'm a psychologist.

Olivia weakly shook Dr. Reed's hand, her palms wet and clammy against the strong grip of the psychologist. "Hello." She vaguely wondered why a psychologist was there to speak with her. She didn't feel as if any thing was wrong with her, mentally. "Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital." Dr. Reed smiled at her. "There was an accident."

"What kind of accident?"

Dr. Reed ignored the question, instead asking another. "What is your date of birth, Agent Dunham?"

Olivia answered then repeated her question, watching as Dr. Reed jotted something down on her notepad. "What kind of accident?"

"Is your mother alive?"

The question caught Olivia off guard, sending her mind reeling. She felt her eyebrows furrow in confusion, felt her eyes drop and she turned her attention to her still-shaking hands. "No. She died when I was fourteen."

In a room down the hall, Peter stood suddenly, eyes wild. He turned to Broyles, his words frantic. "That's her. That's our Olivia."

Walter reached out to grab Peter's arm, stopping him from leaving the room to go to Olivia's side. "Wait, son. We have to know what happened to her on the Other Side. The interrogation will tell us everything."

Peter reluctantly sat, focusing his attention on the monitor as the psychologist continued to ask Olivia questions.

"What is the name of your niece?"

The pain from a memory was clear on Olivia's face as she answered, her voice faltering. "I – I don't have a niece. There were . . . complications. She didn't make it. My sister died giving birth to her."

Walter watched with interest as the interrogation proceeded. He sighed once Dr. Reed left Olivia's room, dropping his head to his hands. Peter looked at him, waiting for his father's conclusion.

"It's just as I feared," Walter muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Two consciousnesses are fighting for Olivia's mind. Somehow, they must've injected her with the memories and, therefore, the personality of her alternate. Two conflicting personalities are battling for control of the same space. It's similar to the way the two Universes are fighting to occupy the same space. Ultimately, only one will survive this collision of minds."

"How can we help our Olivia win this. . . battle?" Broyles asked, leaning forward in his chair.

"I'm not sure." Walter stood and began pacing the small room, arms crossed as he thought. "Perhaps, if we are able to trigger memories in our Olivia's mind, her consciousness will be pulled to the surface."

"What sort of triggers would we need to use?"

Walter stopped pacing, turning to look at Broyles. "We need to use items or-" he paused, glancing over at Peter, "people who are close to her." He turned his attention back to Broyles. "Things that she doesn't have on the Other Side. Her niece would be a great trigger, for example. And her sister, since she is dead on the Other Side."

"I'll go talk to them." Broyles left the room to find Rachel and Ella and bring them to the hospital.

Walter turned to Peter, who was slumped in the chair, eyes fixed on the screen that showed Olivia's room. "Peter, I- I think you should try to talk to her. She feels strongly about you. You may be just the trigger she needs."

Peter shook his head, grabbing his coffee and standing to leave the room. "I don't think that's a good idea, Walter."

Walter followed his son from the room into the waiting area outside, confused. "Why not? You would be an excellent trigger for Agent Dunham's memory."

Turning sharply, Peter held up his hands at Walter, who stopped just inches away. "It's not a good idea, Walter. She didn't recognize me when she woke up, she won't recognize me now. And once she realizes what happened over here, she's not going to want to have anything to do with me."

Walter stared at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I should have known, Walter! I should have known that she didn't come back with us, that it wasn't her! That she had been replaced!"

Shaking his head, Walter stood, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "You couldn't have known. None of us knew. She fooled us all."

"But you didn't fall for her!" An uncomfortable silence fell between the two, Peter's heavy breathing the only thing that filled the waiting room. He slumped into a chair and pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to squeeze the memories of the past few months out of his mind. He spoke again, his words much quieter this time, barely a whisper. "You didn't fall for her."

Walter sat next to the man, placing his hand on his arm. "Peter, I-"

"Peter Bishop?" A nurse came from the hallway, interrupting Walter's next words. Peter raised his head at the call, his eyes filled with sorrow as he looked at the nurse.

"Yes?"

The nurse looked at him, her eyes sympathetic as she saw the pain in his. "Agent Dunham is asking for you."

Peter jumped from his seat and followed to nurse down the hall, barely able to stop himself from breaking out in a run and sprinting to Olivia's room. When they came to his door, he slowed, his heart threatening to burst from his chest. Did Olivia want to see the Secretary's son or Peter?

He stood in the doorframe, peering at Olivia, refusing to step in the room. She was lying in her bed, staring out the window, not even looking at them when Peter and the nurse entered the room. The nurse moved to Olivia's bedside, quickly checking her chart and the numbers that were registering on the machine that was monitoring her vitals. Once she finished, the nurse left the room, giving Peter a sympathetic smile as he moved out of the doorway to let her pass.

Olivia continued to look out the window, not even acknowledging Peter, despite the fact that she had asked for him to come here. Peter stepped further into the room, doing his best to keep his footfalls quiet but unable to completely silence them. He came next to Olivia's bedside and tentatively reached out a hand, placing it softly on her forearm. Would she recognize him? "Olivia?"

She turned to look at him, almost startled. Her eyes were confused for a moment, but then they cleared, filling with recognition. She spoke, her words no more than a whisper. "Peter."

Relief flooded Peter. He sank into the chair that Dr. Reed had vacated earlier, raising a hand to his brow. "Oh, thank God."

Olivia smiled weakly, but her relief was brief. Soon it filled with panic, alarm. It reminded Peter far too much of the last time she'd been in the hospital, when she'd been announced brain-dead, with little chance to wake from the coma she'd been in. He stood, raising a hand to cup her cheek gently, stroking her smooth skin with his thumb. "Olivia? What is it?"

"They did something to me, Peter. I don't know what, but they did something to me. Please, Peter, you have to help me. I- I don't know who I am."

His heart breaking, Peter gently kissed her forehead, pushing her fringe out of the way. "Shh, 'Livia. I know. But it's going to be okay. It's all going to be okay."

He had no idea how wrong he was, how hard it would be for Olivia to finally, truly come home.


End file.
